The Girl On The Curb
by CrimsonJoy
Summary: Every day Santana passes Brittany on the street, growing closer and closer to the girl that sat unmoving on the pavement every day, no matter what. T to be safe. Character death.


**A/N It's not hard to figure out how I came up with this, just read and you'll figure it out. I wrote this when I couldn't sleep. Hope you enjoy.**

The first time I saw her, she was beside the cinema, where I figured she nearly always was.

She was sitting outside, her hair glistening in the sunlight, her long legs folded under her, her arms resting peacefully on her knees, lazy and comfortable. Her bright eyes, watched the passers-by with slight curiosity, darting from one to the other and taking everything in carefully.

It was unnerving, the way she could sit unmoving for so long.

I was with my friends, and simply passed her by, squeezing past her to get to the door and follow my friends. Her head darted up to watch me, as if only noticing my existence in that second. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her gaze catch on me, but quickly turn away, again searching the streets.

Hours later, when I left the movie with Mercedes and Quinn, she was still there, relaxing against the grimy wall, her eyes closed, her but hand still gripping her small cap in a vice like grip.

We had stopped in front of the building, waiting for Mercedes' boyfriend Sam to pick us up as we had gotten there by taxi, when I heard Quinn exhale slowly. I turned to her and narrowed by chocolate eyes in confusion.

The blonde was turned towards the cinema, a sad look in her eyes, which were focused on the girl lying, nearly asleep, outside it.

Her hazel eyes soft and slightly upset, the woman dug through her purse, and retrieved a five dollar note, slowly walking towards the other blonde, and dropping it into her hat.

Like a reflex, the taller girl awoke from her light snooze, smiling brightly up at Quinn, her eyes lighting up like the sun. It was infectious, and my friend grinned back, turning back from the girl and walking towards me.

The girl on the curb watched Quinn leave, her eyes slowly going over Mercedes, who was facing the road still, searching for the car, and then me. She met my eyes, her own ocean blue swirling and crashing like the sea they so perfectly echoed.

I quickly averted my gaze, her own too much for me to handle. There was something about her that drew me in. I knew what it was. Though she seemed cold and tired, she was gorgeous. With long, wavy blonde hair that fell around her face, framing in perfectly.

Her body, though mostly hidden by a thin blanket, was thin, and her arms were muscled. I wondered how much she ate, but did not dwell on it for fear of being dragged down. I knew it was selfish, but I really couldn't think about that right now.

I could hear the car speeding down the road, obviously Sam due to the strange, epic music playing, probably from one of his obsessive shows. I smiled at the though, almost scoffing because I knew it was right.

I glanced back at Quinn, who was once again watching the sleepy blonde. I sighed alongside her, and grabbed her arms to drag her along. Quinn always was compassionate towards homeless people.

The second time I saw her, I was just passing by. It was late at night, nearly one in the morning in fact, and I was tired and alone.

I was leaving Rachel's house, after declining her offer for a ride home, not able to stand much more of her grating voice, and was stumbling down the street, a few drinks too many swirling inside me.

She was there, very much awake and alert, digging through her clothing desperately, like she was looking for something, perhaps her hat of money.

I stopped across the road from her, going to my bag to find my phone. I had had enough of walking; I decided to call for a lift from whoever would take me.

I could once again feel her eyes on me, most likely trying to skive money from me. I didn't particularly care at the moment, I was drunk, and tired, and I didn't really care about a poor blonde staring the crap out of me.

I was beginning to grow frustrated. I couldn't find my phone, and my bag seemed deep and endless in the dark street. Her eyes were not helping. Did she even blink?

I threw a glare her way, and the blonde averted her gaze to the hard ground, trailing her delicate hands over the gravel slowly and carefully.

I growled and went back to my search, frantic now. Across the road, I heard the tall girl chuckle. "What are you doing?" She said, not loudly, but clear and sharp enough for me to hear in the silent street.

I let out a breath of frustration. "What do you think?" I groaned, staring over at the girl sitting on the pavement, her legs laid out in front of her carefully, her hands held and resting on her lap.

She smiled weakly, shrugging slightly, her eyes closing and her head leaning against the wall, staring up at the sky.

"I don't know…" she murmured, licking her lips. "Not giving me money then?" she said, and I could hear her smirk through her voice.

I didn't know how to react to this girl, this girl who had just a minute before annoyed the shit out of me by asking a stupid question, was now asking for money, with a cocky smile and playful eyes shining towards me from the opposite side of the road.

I rolled my dark eyes towards her, letting out a breath to calm myself. I had no patience for people like her, too cocky for their own good. But I couldn't help but respect her. Thought she owned no material goods, she was still so at ease with herself, without brooding or crying to herself. She was brave.

The blonde raised her eyebrows. "I guess not then," she said, spreading her legs shoulder with part so her knees her in the air, where she then placed her arms, stretching them.

I glared at her once again, as she chuckled with glee. I honestly couldn't understand this girl, she was strange, but refreshing.

She turned her head to me, and I felt her eyes trail me. I couldn't help but feel nervous, her eyes were so strong, so deep, and I drowned in them, sobering me up a little.

"I'm Brittany, by the way," She shouted over.

I turned to her to see what she was doing, still unable to find my keys. The blonde, Brittany apparently, was staring back at me, clearly expecting a name. I wasn't sure I wanted to give it to her however, I didn't know her.

But alcohol played on my mind that night, softening my resolve and blurring my sight. So I told her my name. And everything changed.

I saw her again in a midday rush. Days before Christmas, people were out trying to do their last minute shopping, and so was I.

I was carrying around so many bags; they weighed me down and tired me out. I had finally bought presents for everyone I knew. I always hated shopping for Christmas; I found it a struggle to find the perfect gift for each person. I knew it was a bit of a perfectionist, but I didn't mind.

I spotted her at her usual spot, shivering on the cold, snowy ground, her thin, soaked blanket wrapped tightly around her as she tried her hardest to keep warm. I felt something stab my chest as I saw a passer-by drop a coin in a can that sat in front of her.

She smiled weakly up at him, her eyes lighting up at her charitable donor. It was sad really, how the glitter of a tiny coin, a sliver of cash, could brighten her day. I suddenly felt dirty, carrying around more in my hands to give away than she owned at all.

I wasn't sure where those thoughts came from, but they were strong. I felt sick. I couldn't walk past her and her bright, happy eyes. I knew she couldn't be truly happy. She had no one and nothing.

I averted her, going a different way to my car so I could drop off my bags, a sudden idea forming in my mind.

Skimming to a shop and emerging minutes later, I found myself nearing Brittany again, this time much more comfortable with only the one bag.

She spotted me only when I was almost in front of her, smiling down at her unmoving form. "Hi," I said, smiling weakly.

"Hi," she echoed, grinning with a brightness I couldn't comprehend.

I held the bag out to her. "Merry Christmas," I whispered, widening my smile as I offered my gift. The blonde narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious of my motives.

"What?" She said, her hands itching to take the bag, I could see it, but she held them in place. Something stopped her.

"Here," I muttered, "it's a present,"

Brittany was still, as a statue. A sudden change overcame the girl. Her eye's darkened to an almost vicious glare, like a wild dog in fear of its owner. Her lips thinned and her hands tightened into fists at her sides.

I was startled as the blonde sprung to her feet, grabbing her blanket and stuffing everything else into her ripped jacket pockets. Her clawed hands gripped my arm, and pulled my down the street, and towards one of the many grimy alleys that branched from the main roads.

As soon as she was certain we were hidden, the blonde spun me around to face her, a wide and angry look in her eyes.

Only then did I see how tired she was, how fragile. Now uncovered by her many layers, Brittany's body was weak and thin, sickly so, and it frightened me. She looked so scared, so angry, so ghostly. It was unbearable.

"What are you trying to do, huh?" She hissed, her eyes burning with blue fire. "Don't trick me into thinking you care! I'm so tired of that shit!"

I cringed at her words, the curse sounding so foreign on her lips. She seemed broken all of a sudden.

She shook her head, her hair flying around her in the breeze. "Please don't," she murmured her voice suddenly low and tired. "I'm tired."

I moved forward a step, careful not to scare the girl away. "Brittany…" But she interrupted me.

"You remembered my name," she whispered.

I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah… why wouldn't I?"

Brittany shrugged, casting her eyes to the floor as if guilty. "I don't know…"

I licked my lips, she seemed scared, but I didn't understand why. I glanced at my hands, spotting the bag and smiled.

"Brittany?" I said, capturing her attention and teasing her eyes back up to mine. "Here,"

I handed her the bag, and with little hesitation, this time she took it. Reaching inside, Brittany retrieved the new blanket, cushion and jacket I had purchased for her.

As if in shock, Brittany took the offerings in her hands, confused for a second. "Why are you doing this?" Brittany whispered.

I shrugged. "I wanted to,"

Brittany looked up at me, her eyes slowly returning to their normal kind state, like before she had been offered my gifts.

I smiled at her, and she returned the gesture with kindness. "Thank you, Santana." She said, her eyes so soft and so happy, I couldn't help but grin, proud of my actions.

Over the next few months, I grew closer with Brittany, something that confused my friends on a whole new level.

They didn't understand how I could ever be soft enough to be sweet to a homeless girl who had done nothing for me in return, but something in Brittany made me want to protect her from the world, to keep her from having to show that darker side of her ever again.

I kept showing up to her spot on the curb, it was like magnets, something I couldn't control, I just found myself heading that way during random times in the day.

I learned so much about the poor homeless girl I met on the street. I never expected anything like it to happen, but soon she began to grow on me, becoming something I looked forward to, something I enjoyed.

I learned of her past, of her falling out with her parents, them kicking her out after her coming out to them. It broke my heart that a parent could try and rid themselves of this girl, this friendly, sweet, and so seemingly innocent girl. I couldn't understand. But what did I understand about Brittany's life?

I learned about the other homeless people, the groups of them that would tease her day after day, how much the terrified her. She was scared that one day, their mock fights with her would go too far. They would battle her for her earning, and the markings were beginning to show.

I knew that one day something would go wrong, but I was much too comfortable in my bubble of friendship with Brittany to notice her beginning to fade away.

I never knew that one day, only a few weeks after meeting her, Brittany would disappear.

I arrived at the curb that day, the rain pelting down on my jacket hood, a smile on my face as I moved towards the spot where we would meet each day.

But as I sheltered under the edge of the building and pulled the hood from my head, my smile faded, and my eyes narrowed.

There was Brittany's things, the items she never leaves alone, just lying there alone. I felt my breath leave my body. Her blankets were everywhere, her pillow was ripped open, her can and hat gone.

I felt something stab my stomach, fear perhaps, and was suddenly searching through the scattered fabrics. I was in shock, I was scared.

But then I saw it. That tiny splatter of crimson that had spilt over her duvet. Bile rose in my throat and sent my head spinning in fear.

I dashed. I ran through the entire town, searching every tiny alley and every building. But, it wasn't until the dark of the night when I finally found Brittany. Her neck broken, her meagre possessions stolen.

I remember my eyes welling up with unshed tears, my stomach dropping at the sight of her broken body. I felt empty, like something had been torn from my very being. I didn't understand it at the time. I didn't understand anything. But right then, I felt like I was detached in a way.

There was something missing inside me, something that never did fill up again after that day. I was broken, just like the blonde girl that lay dead on the grey pavement.

Living on the streets was hard, but I never had truly known until that day.

**A/N So let me know what you thought. I wrote this late at night, so forgive me for any flaws please. Reviews are loved. Buttons right there, look down. **


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